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Blake Pudding [Final Draft]
B01C23 – Wasted Meal

B01C23 – Wasted Meal

image [https://i.imgur.com/xcQhW8Y.jpg]

Blood splattered all over me, staining my silk flesh red as I pinned the little goblin beneath my hips. Atop him, I tore through his guts with utter delight. His intestines unraveled like unending sausage links, and I continued to pull, slurping them up with utter slow glee, savoring the moment and taste.

Desperate hands flailed in an attempt to push me off, but I easily captured them with one hand and pinned them above his head as he thrashed beneath me. The goblin’s screams and wails—the background music to my feast—drowned out even my moans of pleasure as he desperately cried for help, all while I reveled in the chaos.

I won’t lie; if he had turned out to be a child, I might have held myself back, but a fifty-year-old goblin was a whole other story. You know how goblins have that stereotype of being horny little bastards who’ll fuck anyone? Well, it turns out, I’m pretty sure it’s true. I felt something swell beneath his loincloth, pressing firmly against my gooeyness.

My orange eyes widened, their glow reflecting off him as I recoiled, releasing his arms in shock.

“You sick fuck,” I muttered, with a mouthful of intestines dangling from my lips down to the goblin’s torn stomach.

If not for that little loincloth, well... I shudder to think what almost happened.

It must have been instinctual, as he didn’t act upon it with a thrust; instead, he resumed flailing his arms in desperation. On the other hand, I activated Corrosive and listened as his cries escalated to a high-pitched scream while the unwelcome bulge dissolved beneath my hips. Of course, I made sure to turn the skill off before melting through him entirely—I mean, there’s no point in ending my meal too quickly. After all, I do love the struggle.

All the while, his pet slime cried out, “Me next! Me next!”

“Watcha doing?”

I blinked a few times, then glanced to my side to see Wartie staring at me with wide, innocent eyes.

“Nothing,” I sighed.

Ugh, I really need to stop daydreaming all the damn time.

As Wartie led me deeper into the twisted tunnels, my mind savored various ways I could devour him. With each step, my excitement surged as I played out different scenarios. The anticipation would have pulsed through my veins—if I had any—as we continued. Beyond my desire to eat the goblin, I was itching to confront my fellow earthlings for a second round. However, I knew I needed to exercise patience for now, both with the goblin and the others. I really, really wanted their skills, especially that Death Bolt, but after my previous defeat, caution was necessary. Still, I was determined to make them suffer.

As we ventured further into the darkness—not that I noticed with Mana Focus always active—my glowing orange eyes cast eerie reflections on the tunnel walls. Wherever I glanced, the light touched the crystal shards, illuminating their scattered fragments on the walls, ceiling, and floor with sparkling radiance.

The atmosphere grew colder and more damp as we delved deeper. Our path narrowed and became cramped, forcing us to crawl. At times, I had to contort my form into odd shapes to make any progress. I wriggled, squeezed, and used Polymorph to maneuver through the tight openings of collapsed sections, determined to forge ahead. If not for my shapeshifting abilities, my succubus-esque curves would have gotten stuck more times than I could count. Meanwhile, my little goblin guide seemed to navigate the treacherous terrain with ease.

As we continued, my mind happily wandered back to deliciously wicked daydreams, completely consumed by thoughts of devouring my unsuspecting victims—not just the jittery goblin scampering ahead, but the others too. The anticipation bubbled up inside me, threatening to explode at any moment. My black flesh rippled with excitement, perfectly mirroring the devious thoughts swirling through my mind.

“Muddy, deep roads—ahead. We took shortcut,” Wartie snickered, his crooked and jagged goblin teeth flashing in a mischievous grin. “They be coming to us! We wait up ahead.”

“How many times do I need to say it? My name’s not Muddy, it’s Blake.”

“Yes. Yes. Me know. Yes. Muddy, me know,” he eagerly nodded.

Deciding to drop it as a lost cause, I dragged my hand down my face in exasperation. “Are you absolutely certain we’re ahead of them?” I sighed.

“What’s ‘abso-smurfly’?”

“Are you positive?” I reiterated.

“Posi-giggity?”

I felt my frustration mounting as I took a deep breath and tried again. “Are. You. Sure?” I asked, each word dripping with impatience. And, okay, I won’t deny it. There might have been some handclapping as I spat out each syllable.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded.

Silence.

That conversation had driven me freaking nuts. Here I was, stuck watching Wartie as he started rocking back and forth, humming some off-key tune and playing with his slimy blob of a pet, Doodles. At least there was Doodles. That slimy blob, aka the gelatinous cube, would whine and beg for its miserable existence to end. The funny thing was that only I could hear its pathetic pleas. The little block of sorrow’s cries echoed through the twisted tunnels, and I gotta admit, it gave me a sick kind of joy to revel in its misery.

Time dragged on like a snail on a sugar rush, and I was getting more annoyed by the second. Seriously, how much longer could I handle this before I went all hangry and chomped down on him?

Ugh, the struggle is real.

Wait—why don’t I just eat him now? I mean, he’s already taken me where I needed to go.

Hmmmmmmm?

I followed him a few more paces through a narrow passage; the corridor unfurled like an expansive underground highway, with colossal pillars stretching out into the abyss, disappearing into the darkness beyond the reach of my luminescent gaze from Mana Focus. The sight beckoned me, luring us deeper into its depths. All thoughts of killing the goblin disappeared as I took in everything. A chill ran down my slimy back, a foreboding sense of something different about this section of the dungeon.

“Moria,” I whispered.

The air grew heavy with an unsettling dread, heightening my senses as I followed the goblin. My core pulsed with eager anticipation, fueled by the darkness that enveloped us. Fear? Nerves? Something was definitely stirring within me! But who was I kidding? My inner geek was freaking trembling with excitement! Everything about this place screamed Tolkien. Each step had me feeling like a kid again as I maneuvered around a massive pillar. My head tilted unnaturally back as I stared up, unable to see where it ended in the darkness above.

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A scratchy, masculine woman’s voice yelled out, “Ah, for the love o’ tits, I’m tellin’ ye, I heard somethin’ back here.”

My heart raced at the unfamiliar voice—well, my figurative heart, since I don’t literally have one. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t have a figurative one either. Glancing at Wartie, I noticed his small frame trembling as he clutched his gelatinous cube tightly, the little blob cheerfully pleading for its own demise.

I had no clue who was coming, but oh, I was ravenous!

As my senses kicked into overdrive, I melted into a gooey mess. Shedding my elegant human guise, I reveled in my true form: a badass slime monster. Goodbye, delicate spider silk skin; hello, tar-like skin ready to devour anything in its path. A force to be reckoned with, my hunger was insatiable, my essence oozing with the darkness of the twisted monster I’d embraced. It was time to unleash my cannibalistic hunger upon these unsuspecting fools—they had no idea what was about to hit them.

Game on!

The time I’d spent restraining myself from gobbling up that little goblin had pushed me to the edge. I couldn’t take it any longer. With determination, I oozed forward, adrenaline pumping wildly through my core as I readied to pounce and satisfy my voracious appetite upon the newcomers.

Emerging from the darkest depths between colossal pillars, three figures appeared. The one with a feeble lantern, struggling to pierce the gloom, was quite the sight—a dwarf in what seemed like a botched drag attempt. Massive breasts… and a five o’clock shadow?

Ah, memories.

I miss drag shows—such good times!

The second figure was your classic elf, complete with long, flowing golden hair and piercing green eyes, adorned in a fancy white-plated armored dress with gold accents. The elf looked more like a pretty boy—or perhaps a lady? Well... the presence of perky breasts on the chestplate might suggest female, but with elves, you can never be too sure, can you? Aren’t all elves somewhat feminine?

I think the word is androgynous?

Nah, I think that means they can look both male and female. Don’t all elves look like hot women?

I don’t think that’s true... do I?

One name: Legolas!

Oh, she was a hot bitch, wasn’t she—or he?

Regardless of my internal debate with my own thoughts, she radiated the aura of a battle-hardened warrior.

And then next was the typical human wizard—huyman, or is it humyn?—complete with a pointy hat, long white beard, and those oh-so-cliché gray robes. And, of course, a wooden staff, because what’s a wizard without their trusty walking stick?

Honestly, the sight of them was a bit underwhelming. I was hoping for something more thrilling, but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to filling my belly. Food is food, right?

The dim light from their lantern seemed to intensify the surrounding shadows, enveloping me further in darkness and making it even more difficult for me to be noticed.

“Tsk tsk,” the wizard clucked his tongue in disapproval. “You young folks and your paranoia, always jumping at shadows. It’s just a harmless feral goblin, I assure you.”

“Young?” The elf glanced over at the wizard, giving him an unamused stare. “I’m nearly two millennia old.”

“And once you turn thirty, I’ll stop calling you young,” the wizard retorted with a sly smile.

Hold on, what?

“Ah, c’mon now, Craycroft,” the dwarf grumbled, annoyance clear in her voice. “We’ve been stuck down ‘ere far too long, patrollin’ for any vampires that might’ve escaped this way. Our luck in not findin’ any seems to ‘ave made you soft and lazy. A bit o’ paranoia wouldn’t ‘urt, would it?”

My mind was stuck on that accent—I mean, it was thick, almost too thick for even me to follow. This left me wondering, why wasn’t Polyglot smoothing it out? Only conclusion: dwarf accents are so fucking thick that not even magical skills can fix them!

Meanwhile, Wartie looked around frantically, his eyes darting in a desperate search for me, but I stayed put, biding my time and waiting for my prey to draw nearer.

Nope, not gonna budge—yet!

Just a bit closer…

“M-Muddy?” Wartie sniffled.

The elf boldly stepped forward, her voice brimming with conviction. “May the Ascended Gods cleanse you with their divine light,” she declared.

With a deft flick of her wrist, the elf unleashed a scorching white beam that struck Wartie’s chest with a thunderous crack. The force sent the goblin airborne, his body tumbling through the space before it crumpled lifelessly to the ground. The beam, undimmed, cast an otherworldly glow across the ancient pillars, bathing the cavern in a spectral light.

As the searing brilliance enveloped me, a sensation akin to being roasted alive crawled over my skin. Pain seared through every inch of me, almost unbearable, yet I clenched my form tightly together, determined not to reveal my presence to the trio.

V:\Ascension>SAFE_MODE

Holy Status Detected [SD]

Resist Status: None [Inactive]

Applying Resistances…

Resistance Unsuccessful

Holy Vulnerability in Full Effect

V:\>

“Ah, a bit much, Anlyth?” The dwarf chuckled, amusement clear in her deep, scratchy voice.

I had to agree as I tried not to scream out in pain. Seriously, Holy magic is utter bullshit. I don’t think it does as much damage as Fire, but it certainly confirmed my earlier suspicion from those three statues—Holy hurts way more!

“Truly, Gimona Grimmail?” the elf retorted with a haughty tone. “It was an unholy feral creature. I did it a kindness by granting it a swift death.”

“Ah, c’mon now, Anlyth,” the dwarf teased, her voice rich with annoyance. “Don’t ye know goblin hearts are a delicacy ’mongst us dwarves? Ye went and blew its wee heart away!”

“Such strange tastes you dwarves have,” the wizard sighed, shaking his head. “I will never comprehend your dietary choices.”

“Ah, that’s a feckin’ good one, Craycroft!” the dwarf boomed with laughter. “Ye, who’s never savored the delight o’ dwarven meat and the nectar o’ our finest mead! Now, that’s a bleedin’ joke! And as for yer tower, I’ve heard whispers ’bout the perverse things ye be doin’ in there.”

Their laughter gradually faded as they departed, swallowed by the depths of the massive corridor and its endless pillars. All that remained was the faint afterglow from the shattered crystals, casting a dim light that sparkled like distant stars, as if imbued with some of the elf’s magic. Its golden brilliance slowly faded into the enveloping darkness.

As the glow dissipated, I took my time reforming my body, a growing sense of dread enveloping me as I approached the crumpled form of the goblin. Rage seethed within me, and the sensation of unseen eyes watching my every move was inescapable. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by a shiver of rage that coursed through me as I stood there, gazing at the lifeless body. The only sound that echoed through the tunnel was the jubilant cries of triumph from a small, quivering, gelatinous cube.

“I’m free! I’m free!” it cried in ecstatic celebration.

My mind wrestled with twisted thoughts as I neared the lifeless form of the goblin. I struggled to make sense of the strange mix of emotions bubbling within me. How could I, a monstrous being, feel sadness for the loss of this insignificant creature that had served only as an irritant? It was absurd, beneath me. I was a killer, a cannibal devoid of such sentimentalities. Yet, the lingering feeling of loss gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored.

Then it hit me! I wasn’t upset that the goblin was dead; no, I was infuriated that I hadn’t been the one to kill him. I had been daydreaming about the ways I would do it, and that opportunity was stolen from me in an instant.

Argh, this is absolute bullshit!

He was meant to die screaming—slowly—while I savored every bite!

I looked over at the cheerful cube wiggling all happily, no longer calling for its own death now that its tamer had been slain. I quickly ended its joyful outburst with a swift stomp, slime splattering everywhere, fulfilling its earlier wish for freedom with a swift death.

Pulling my gaze back to the green shit’s lifeless body, a chaotic mix of emotions swirling within me—pain, guilt, sorrow, and pure, seething rage. Seriously—I really, really wanted to eat him alive! The anger inside me boiled over, and my thirst for revenge grew insatiable. Thankfully, I had two phylacteries, but using one just to resurrect that annoying brat for my culinary delight—or should I say, undelight? You know, like undead? Tee-hee!—seemed like a total waste. Yet, for someone else to just waltz in and snuff out the goblin’s life? That was absolute bullshit. Simply eating his corpse wouldn’t be enough to quench my hunger or fury. Oh no, those three responsible were going to pay, and I mean really pay, with a lifetime of misery as I devoured them alive!

But there was one massive obstacle in my way...

There was something I needed to do before feasting on them. It was the same thing holding me back from completing that quest Magic had given me. I needed to grow stronger; I needed to kill and Absorb the skills from those four others from Earth.

“But first,” I cooed as I knelt down, “I might as well not waste a perfectly good meal, even if it’s a bit cold now,” I smiled, the grin stretching unnaturally across my face.